Captain Of Her Heart (15 page)

A fire in the hearth warmed and illuminated the sitting room, which featured a large wingback chair and a daybed piled high with pillows.  But he had no interest in the furnishings.

An entry to the left opened to another, much larger chamber.  An impressive four-poster, the most massive he had ever seen in a woman’s quarters, held pride of place at the center of the back wall.  To his surprise, the bed was empty.  A fireplace bathed the room in soft light, and just then he located the object of his affection, standing before the only window with the drapes still tied.

Moonlight cocooned her in a silvery glow, which rendered all but invisible the silk creation she wore.  Similar to the attire with which she had taunted him in Plymouth, the diaphanous gauze only emphasized the tempting cleft of her bottom.  In a flash, Jason recalled what he had done to her luscious derriere in vivid detail, and he gritted his teeth against a groan.

When Alex inclined her head and hugged her pronounced belly, something inside him seized, and his gut clenched.  Had he thought her beautiful?  The term seemed insufficient, as he found her breathtaking.  Focused, determined to right the wrongs of the past, he crossed the floor, slipped his hand beneath her long locks, closed his fingers about the hair at the nape of her neck, tipped back her head, rested a palm to her belly, and kissed her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

In soft, subtle sashays, Jason loved Alex with his mouth, and she could have cried.  It was so wonderful to taste her captain again, and then his rejection intruded on their delicious interlude, haunting and taunting, and she withdrew.

“Why are you here?”  She tottered to the mantel and gazed into the blaze.  “And why did you kiss me?”

“Just correcting your oversight, love.”  His rich baritone melted over her, like honey on a hot scone, and left nothing untouched.

And, oh, what she felt.

“I do not follow.”  How often she had dreamed of their wedding night, yet her fantasy had never included a forced marriage and an unplanned pregnancy.  “What have I neglected?”

“I believe it customary to seal the marital vows with a kiss, or would you argue otherwise?”  Was her husband flirting with her?

“Well now you have had your kiss.”  And Alex wished she had donned a more conservative robe.  “So you may take your leave, and I shall see you in the morning.  I wish you a pleasant rest, sir.”

“Not so fast, my fetching bride.”  Jason chuckled, in that sensual rumble that sent delicious shivers over her flesh.  “As my personal belongings have been moved here, compliments of your brother, I will sleep here.”

She gasped in horror at the prospect, because she could resist so many things, but randy Jason—oh, no.  “But—you can’t mean to take me in this condition.”

“Would you like me to try?”  He grinned, and the ice encasing her heart fractured.

“Of course, not.”  She lied, as her body never failed to respond to his flirty summons.

“Are you sure, because you do not sound very certain of yourself?”  Her naughty husband trailed a finger along the curve of her cheek, her jawline, her neck, and then he traced imaginary circles on her décolletage.  “And I am most definitely at your service, my dear wife.”

“Yet you love me not.”  She grasped at a lifeline, to forestall his lusty assault, because if he touched her in that place at the apex of her thighs, he would have her.

“Perhaps, not.”  With a mighty frown, he dropped his hand to his side.  “But I desire you.”

And there it was, the source of her torment and shame, plainly spoken.  “That was never enough for me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”  Jason inclined his head.

“You are a wise man, though you have done your best to convince me otherwise, so figure it out for yourself, sir.”  Shielded in anger mixed with despair, Alex unfastened the lone button of her robe.  “I should warn you that I sleep in the nude, as I find nightgowns altogether confining and uncomfortable, at this stage in my pregnancy, so you should avert your gaze, given my
rotundness
offends you.”

“I beg your pardon?”  He settled hands on hips and shifted his weight.  “When did I ever make such a callous statement?”

“Did you or did you not comment on my size, when you first arrived?”  With a deep breath, she steeled herself for his derision and dropped her robe to the floor.  Then she drew back the blankets, fluffed a mountain of pillows, and enacted the wonky exercise required to recline in bed.

“Alex, I admit I am, at times, an ignorant arse, and I regret my thoughtless comment, but I plead temporary insanity, as your condition was a deuced shock.”  After doffing his coat and waistcoat, he untied his cravat and flung the linen swath across the back of a chair.  Then Jason sat and tugged off his boots.  When he unhooked his breeches, she closed her eyes.  “All right, where is the rapier retort?  What happened to my fiery society miss?  You know, the brazen spitfire who followed me to Plymouth?”

“You destroyed her.”  The mattress dipped, dislodging her pillow supports, and she rolled to the side, into Jason’s arms.  Hovering close, with their noses mere inches apart, he hugged her.  “I am all that remains, sir.”

“Will you stop addressing me so formally?”  As she tried to resituate herself, he held her firm.  “And what are you about, with the pile of cushions, as you cannot be comfortable?  Is this your way of erecting additional barriers between us?”

“I need not add to our troubles, sir.  But my elevated position is the only posture that affords a measure of relief that I may sleep, as our babes are restless.”  It was then she realized her husband had deliberately baited her.  “And I show you that deference which is owed to a husband, as I have been bred to obey.”

“How many times must I remind you I was not to the manor born?”  Jason brushed his lips to hers.  “As you so correctly pointed out in Plymouth, I am but a low-born sailor.  I never attended Eton or university, thus my education took place above and below decks, courtesy of the Royal Navy, and I am quite proud of my history, as I have no use for titles or such foppery.”

“Are you finished?”  She moaned, as he kissed her again.

“No.”  With a fistful of covers, he drew the sheet to her chin.  “How can I help you, love?  There must be a more relaxed station.  Will you not lean on me?”

“I would, but then I could not rest when you leave me—and you will leave me.”  How Alex needed his strength, but she had trusted him once, and he had disappointed her.  “And I would not inconvenience you.”

“Darling, you are never an inconvenience, and I have no intention of leaving your side, unless duty calls.”  He splayed a hand protectively over her belly.  The babes kicked, and his eyes grew wide.  “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes.  Your children are most active at night.”  She smiled at his countenance of inexpressible wonder.  “But I thought you would return to London, after installing me at Stratfield Manor.”

“
Installing you
?”  Jason blanched, and she could not help but giggle.  “Sweetheart, you are my wife, not some contracted heir maker.  Bloody hell, but the peerage infests your mind with such revolting notions.”

“Then you intend to reside with me?”  All right, she was a vast deal more than relieved that he would not abandon her to the country, yet Alex knew not what to expect of her husband.

“You really think the worst of me, do you not?”  How wounded he appeared, as he slipped his arm about her shoulders.  “And who could blame you, given my abominable treatment.  My lovely bride, I know I hurt you.  If I could go back in time, to that awful day in Plymouth, know that the outcome would have been quite the opposite, as I should have married you.  But now we are wed, and your honor is restored.  Let go your anger and make the best of our situation.”

“Are you serious?  Is that all you have to say for yourself?” She had almost fallen for him—almost.  “It will take more than pretty words and easy manners to resolve our problems, sir.”

“I do not suppose we can straighten out our difficulties in a single conversation, dearest.”  Jason shuffled the pillows and encouraged her to recline on her side, with her belly nestled in a cushion he had placed with efficiency and her head resting on his shoulder.  “I ask for a chance, Alex.  Give me the opportunity to redeem myself, nothing more.”

“But you ask so much.”  She pressed her palm to his muscled chest.  “And I know not if I can survive another disappointment.  I must consider my babes—”

“
Our
babes.”  As was his way, he raked his fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp.

Memories, bits of the past flooded her consciousness, and Alex sniffed, as she revisited cherished moments from their courtship and her time in Plymouth.  Soon, the tears flowed, as she mourned the fanciful dreams she had coveted since they met two years ago.

“Do not cry, darling.”  He cradled her head, and she sobbed without restraint.

“I weep not for you.”  In truth, Alex lamented the man she had thought Jason had been, and it had almost killed her to discover he was not her knight in shining armor.

“Of course not.”  Still, he held her.

“I grieve what might have been.”  And what grand aspirations she had envisioned.

“Alex, I know we begin our life under inauspicious circumstances, and I understand that I failed you.”  He could not possibly comprehend what he had done to her.  “Please, do not turn me away.”

For several seconds, she pondered his request, as his heartbeat lulled her into a relaxed state.  Although she would deny it should her husband inquire, she desperately needed him—the man of honor she had pursued to Plymouth, not the blackguard who left her alone, unwed, and pregnant.  And while she had heaped a boatload of hellfire and brimstone on his imaginary head during those six months he was at sea, part of her celebrated his return, as he owned her heart, body, and soul, much to her chagrin.

“Are you sincere in your desire to set things right between us?”  It was a question he had posed, the day she had arrived at the small rented cottage.

“I will do anything to restore your faith in me.”  Another mirror response, and it cut like the sharpest knife, as she longed to believe him.  “Tell me what you would have of me, and you shall have it.”

“You must earn the chance you seek, but I know not what I require, as I hardly know myself, any more.”  In that moment, she dried her eyes and peered at him.  “I am lost, Jason.”

“Beautiful Alex, allow me to help you find yourself again.”  And then he tipped her chin and covered her mouth with his.

#

“I will always be here, Alex.  While I know you remain angry with me, you must understand that I acted in the best interest of your children.  I am still your brother, and I love you.”  Damian sighed, in a mournful exhalation she felt all the way to her marrow.  “If you ever need me, you know how to reach me.”

Alex stiffened her spine and faced forward, as she refused to look at Damian.  Yes, she was furious with him for forcing her to wed, because she considered his action a bitter betrayal, but she feared she would collapse into a fit of tears if she met his gaze, as he had been her staunchest defender for as long as she could remember.  How much heartbreak could one woman withstand?

“Are you ready, my dear?”  Jason handed her into the traveling coach.  “We have a full day ahead of us.”

“For the last time, must we journey to Stratfield now?”  As she glanced at the graceful equipage, Alex blanched.  “My stomach is rather fragile, and—”

“If you have your way, we will never leave Penhurst, so what is the difference, whether now or later?”  When she settled her skirts and sank into the squabs in the middle of the bench, he frowned.  “Will you scoot to one side, please?”

“You wish to share a seat?”  Alex gulped at the prospect, because the morning malaise might necessitate a quick exit.  “Jason, you should not—”

“Never mind.”  Without ceremony, her husband plopped beside her, turned, and drew her into his lap.  “There.  Surely we shall pass a far more enjoyable trip so comfortably situated.”

“Do you intend to force your attentions on my person for the duration of our travels?”  Alex wiggled her hips and then froze, when her errant knight hissed.

“Easy, love, as you tempt me beyond reason.”  With a flirty nip of her ear, he chuckled and squeezed her thigh.  “And in response to your question, the answer is no.  I intend to force my attentions on your person for the duration of our marriage, as I count that state-sanctioned right chief among the perks of my newfound status as your lord and master.”

“Lord and master, indeed.”  And then she noted the telltale bulge of his erection, and it dawned on her that he spoke the truth.  He wanted her.  That seemingly insignificant bit of information worked on Alex in a manner she could not have anticipated, and she involuntarily clenched the muscles between her legs.  “Jason, I swear I am not trying to be difficult.  My last carriage ride did not end so well, and I would spare you the unpleasantness.”

“My dear wife, I manage a boatload of surly sailors for a living.”  Jason kissed her forehead.  “I promise, whatever you throw at me, I can handle it.”

Famous last words.

And so Alex rested her head on his shoulder and wept softly, as they passed through the gates of Penhurst Castle, leaving behind all that was familiar and comforting for—what, she knew not.  Resolved to persevere, she closed her eyes and drifted into dreamland.

The sun was low in the western sky when Alex woke, hours later, cursed with the most prominent malady in her cadre of pregnancy plagues.  At some point, Jason had shifted and propped in the corner, but he held her close in his lap.  He dozed peacefully, unaware of the danger lurking in his midst, and she reconsidered disturbing him—just as a tidal wave of nausea struck her.  As bile rose in her throat, the world spun out of control.

“Jason, wake up.”  With a violent shake, she roused him.  “Hurry.”

“What is it, darling?”  He yawned and stretched.

“Stop the coach, as I fear I am going to—” To her utter mortification, Alex revisited the large breakfast she had enjoyed at Penhurst, on his coat.